#(oS3 


v    I    iudud  r  iu 


No.  34. 

WHAT  ARE  YOU  FIT  FOR? 


A  party  of  railway  workers  were  busily  talking 
together,  when  they  were  joined  by  a  steady,  quiet-look- 
ino-  man  well  known  to  some  of  them,  but  whose  visits 
were  not  always  welcome.  Mr.  Monck's  corning  amongst 
them,  however,  did  not  put  a  stop  to  the  conversation. 
Jack  Bunce  was  telling  his  companions  something  that 
had  happened  in  the  morning,  and  had  caused  him 
much  fun  and  amusement. 

"  Well,"  continued  he,  "  as  I  was  saying,  you  'II 
hardly  believe  it,  but  that  poor,  weakly  old  man  applied 
for  work  on  our  line.  •  I  can  do  a  good  day's  work  with 
the  best  of  them,'  says  he,  while  his  limbs  tottered  so 
that  he  could  hardly  walk  up  the  hill." 

"What  did  the  foreman  of  the  works  answer  him?, 
asked  William  Reynolds. 

"Why,"  returned  Jack,  "he  could  scarcely  keep 
from  laughing,  but  he  spoke  kindly  enough  and  said  : 
My  good  fiiend,  I  fear  our  work  is  too  hard  for  you; 
you  are  not  tit  to  undertake  it.  The  soil  is  bad  about 
here,  and  our  strongest  men  are  sometimes  out  of  heart; 
but  all  he  could  say  the  old  fellow  pressed  and  pressed 
to  be  taken  on,  till  Mr.  McNabb  lost  all  patience  and 
bid  him  be  gone,  he  had  other  business  to'  attend  to,  and 


WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR  f 


turned  away  ;  and  then  the  old  man  walked  off,  looking 
quite  down  and  disappointed." 

"  What  an  old  goose  he  must  be,"  said  Robert  Jones, 
"  I've  been  working  on  the  railway  off  and  on  these  ten 
years,  but  the  bit  we  are  now  on  is  the  worst  I  ever 
tried." 

"  Why,  my  bit  of  a  boy,  Charles,  "  said  Jack,  "  could 
do  a  better  day's  work  than  that  old  man,  but  he's  not 
fit  for  this  tough  sort  of  business,  which  takes  pretty 
well  all  my  strength." 

"Mr.  McNabb  has  had  some  strange  beggars  to-day," 
said  William  Reynolds,  "James  Browne  has  been  ask- 
ing him  for  a  month's  wages  since  he  has  been  laid 
up !" 

"  Why,"  said  another  man,  "he  has  had  his  club 
money,  and  a  help  from  the  line  as  well,  and  yet  does 
he  ask  for  all  his  wages  ?" 

"  It's  plain,"  said  Jack,  "  he  '11  lose  nothing  for  lack 
of  asking,  but  there  don't  seem  much  justice  in  expect- 
ing to  be  paid  wages  for  work  he  has  never  done." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Robert  Jones,  "  no  work  no 
wages,  is  as  fair  as^hard  work,  good  wages  :  both  of 
which  we  have  had  the  luck  to  light  on  just  now." 

Mr.  Monck,  who  had  held  his  tongue  all  this  while, 
now  turned  to  Robert  Jones  and  said  :  "The  office  of 
Parish  clerk  in  this  parish  is  vacant,  I  hear;  there  is  a 
very  fair  salary  and  many  chance  fees;  would  it  be 
well  for  you  to  apply  for  it?" 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Robert,  scratching  his  head 
and  looking  at  Jack,  "why,  you  see,  it  would  be  a 
strange  tiling  for  the  congregation  on  Sunday,  to  see 
a  man  get  into  the  clerk's  desk,  and  try  to  give  out  a 
psalm,  when  he  could  neither  read  the  verse,  nor  sing 
the  tune  !" 

Mr.  Monck.     "  But  the  salary  is  good." 


WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR  ?  3 

Robert.  "May  be  for  them  as  is  fit  for  it;  but  I  am 
not  going  to  make  such  a  fool  of  myself  as  to  apply  for 
what  I  arn't  fit  for/' 

Mr.  Monck.  "  William  Reynolds,  suppose  you  try 
for  it." 

William  laughed  and  said,  "  I  never  go  to  church, 
and  I  don't  mean  to  go  till  I'm  carried  there.  I  work 
hard  all  the  week,  and  I  think  I've  a  right  to  take  a  bit 
of  pleasure  on   Sundays." 

Mr.  Monck.     "Jack  Bunce,  what  do  you  say?" 

Jack.     "  Do  you  think  I  'm  fit  for  it?" 

Mr.  Monck.  "  As  you  ask  me  the  question,  No;  I 
wish  you  were1." 

Jack.  "  Then  what  are  you  after,  telling  us  to  go 
and  make  fools  of  ourselves?" 

Mr.  Monck.  "  I  only  advise  you  to  act  in  this  matter 
in  the  same  way  in  which  you  act  in  matters  of  much 
greater  importance." 

Jill  the  men.     "  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

Mr.  Monck.  "That  you  are  all  wise  men  as  regards 
the  affairs  of  the  body,  but  act  like  very  foolish  ones  as 
regards  the  affairs  of  the  soul.  You  see  plainly  enough 
that  no  man  ought  to  expect  a  situation  here  which  he 
is  not  fit  for,  and  that  it  is  unjust  to  expect  high  wages 
for  little  or  no  work,  yet  in  affairs  of  the  soul  you  see 
neither  of  these  truths  clearly." 

"Say  out  at  once  what  you  mean,"  said  the  men. 

Mr.  Monck.  "  Let  me  ask  you  each  one  question  ; 
where  do  you  expect  to  go  when  you  die,  Robert 
Jones?" 

Robert.  "  I  've  as  good  a  right  to  expect  to  go  to 
heaven  as  most  men.  You  know  I'm  no  drunkard  :  I 
lay  by  my  earnings,  and  go  to  church  when  I  can." 

Mr.  Monck.     "And  you,  William?" 

William.    "I  don't  think  much  about  it,  but  I'm  sure 


4  WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR? 

I  'm  not  so  bad  as  many,  though  I  do  spend  my  Sundays 
as  I  choose." 

Mr.  Monck.     h  And  you,  Jack  Bunce  ?" 

"  Well,  really,  sir,"  said  Jack,  smiling,  "you  know 
I'm  a  pretty  good  father,  and  my  wife  can  speak  no  bad 
of  me  ;  I  bring  up  my  family  honestly,  and  do  my  duty 
to  my  neighbor." 

Mr.  Monck.  '«  Can  any  of  you  tell  me  how  long 
heaven  will  last  ?" 

Jack.     "  They  say  for  ever  and  ever." 

Mr.  Monck.  "Yes,  forever  and  ever — a  word  easier, 
my  man,  to  speak  than  to  think  about.  I  have  heard 
that  an  old  scholar  used  to  say  it  was  the  most  solemn 
and  the  most  wonderful  word  in  the  whole  Bible.  And 
what  sort  of  place  is  heaven  ?  A  place  where  no  sor- 
row can  enter  and  no  tear  be  shed,  where  all  will  be 
perfectly  happy,  and  where  the  soul  will  enjoy  bliss 
greater  than  you  and  I  can  think  of,  and  that  for  hun- 
dreds, thousands,  millions  of  years,  and  then  be  no 
nearer  the  end  of  it  than  it  was  at  the  beginning. 
Robert  Jones,  you  expect  to  enjoy  this  never-ending, 
unspeakable  happiness  because  you  are  no  drunkard, 
but  save  your  earnings  to  become  a  rich  man,  and 
sometimes  go  to  church  on  Sundays,  giving  two  short 
hours  to  God  once  a  week,  and  spending  the  other  one 
hundred  and  sixty-six  in  going  after  your  own  ways. 
William,  you  expect  the  same  good  things  because  you 
are  no  worse  than  others.  Jack,  you  expect  them  also 
because  you  bring  up  your  family  well,  and  pay  your 
way  honestly.  Now,  I  ask  you  whether,  fairly  and 
justly,  such  work  deserves  such  wages?  Suppose  you 
live  sixty  years,  and  each  day  of  each  year  keep  from 
one  sin,  and  do  one  right  thing,  would  it  be  just  to 
expect  hundreds  and  thousands  and  millions  of  years  of 


WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR  f  5 

happiness  as  payment  ?  Do  such  wages  bear  the  small- 
est possible  fair  proportion  to  such  work  ?" 

"That's  just  like  you,"  said  William,  "thinking  no 
one  will  be  saved  but  yourself." 

Mr.  Monck.  "What  I  think  matters  very  little.  I 
ask  you  now  one  simple  question.  In  common  honesty, 
in  common  justice,  ought  such  an  amount  of  work  to 
expect  such  an  amount  of  wages?" 

Jack.  "Why,  if  you  put  it  in  that  way,  I  suppose 
we  can't  say  that  it  ought." 

Mr.  Monck.  "Then,  aga:n,  by  your  own  shewing, 
you  look  upon  that  man  as  a  fool  here  who  applies  for  a 
situation  for  which  he  is  utterly  unfit." 

All.     "Of  course,  we  do." 

Mr.  Monck.     u  What  kind  of  place  is  Heaven  ?" 

William.  "I  don't  know,  I  never  was  there."  The 
men  winked  at  each   other,  and  laughed. 

Mr.  Monck.  "My  friends,  God  in  his  great  mercy 
grant  we  may  all  one  day  see#that  bright  and  happy 
place.  Death  is  no  laughing  matter.  Eternity  is  no 
laughing  matter.  Heaven  is  no  laughing  matter.  Hell, 
hell  is  no  laughing  matter." 

The  solemn,  grave  manner  in  which  he  spoke  sobered 
them  all  in  spite  of  themselves. 

Mr.  Monck  continued  :  "I  know  if  we  were  placed 
in  heaven  as  we  are  now  in  the  sight  of  God,  our  flesh 
would  never  be  able  to  bear  it.  We  should  faint  and 
die  at  once.  If  God  has  ever  shown  men  a  small  part 
of  his  glory  even,  they  have  been  unable  to  stand  the 
sight  of  it  without  special  strength  given  to  them  by 
God.  My  friends,  Heaven  is  a  HOLY  place  :  God  is  a 
HOLY  God:  the  saints  and  angels  in  heaven  are  all 
HOLY.  '  Holiness  becomes  God's  house  for  ever.' 
Nothing  unholy  can  enter  there.  It  is  written  in  the 
Bible,    'There  shall    in  nowise  enter  into    it  anything 


6  WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR  ? 

that  denleth.'  And  again,  'without  holiness  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord.'  Now,  tell  me,  -are  you  holy? 
Have  you  ever  prayed  to  God  to  give  you  his  Holy 
Spirit  which  can  alone  make  you  holy?  Are  you  made 
new  in  the  spirit  of  your  minds?  Are  heavenly  things, 
are  holy  things,  your  delight?  God's  holy  word,  his 
holy  day,  his  holy  worship,  are  these  your  pleasures? 
In  a  word,  are  you  holy?  Or  are  you  striving  to 
become  so?  Are  you  made  fit  for  heaven?  Are  you 
asking  God  to  make  you  so?  Otherwise  it  is  plain  and 
clear  that,  in  hoping  and  expecting  to  go  to  heaven,  you 
are  hoping  for  and  expecting  a  situation  for  which  you 
are  altogether  unfit.  You  are  acting  as  regards  the 
soul,  in  a  manner  in  which  if  a  man  acts  as  regards 
earthly  things,  you  look  upon  him  as  a  fool — a  madman. 
And  you  judge  rightly,  it  is  folly  —  it  is  madness  to 
expect  wages  for  work  never  done,  or  to  expect  that  the 
Holy  God  would  give  you  a  place  for  which  you  have 
never  tried  to  become  fit*" 

Jack.  u  Well,  sir,  there  's  time  enough  yet  to  think 
about  such  things." 

Mr.  Monch.  u  A  poor  excuse  that,  Jack.  Why,  you 
can't  live  on  a  railway  and  not  see  that  a  man  has  not  a 
minute  that  he  can  call  his  own.  You  all  remember 
John  Walker.  Poor  lad  !  he  was  not  twenty  years  old. 
I  passed  him  on  Friday  and  heard  him  with  an  oath  say 
he  wished  he  was  dead,  and  on  the  Monday  after  lie 
was  a  corpse.  He  was  driving  the  tip-horse,  failed  in 
slipping  quickly  enough  out  of  the  way,  and  before  he 
had  time  to  say  one  prayer,  was  caught  by  the  iron 
wheel  of  the  cart  and  crushed  to  death." 

Jill  the  men.  "May  be,  sir,  death  might  do  something 
for  the  poor  fellow. " 

Mr.  Monch.  u  No,  my  friends,  no.  Death  is  no  con- 
juror.    It  just  takes  a  man  out  of  one  place  and  puts 


WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR?  7 

him  into  another  without  making  a  bad  man's  heart 
better,  or  his  tastes  holier;  as  he  leaves  this  world,  so 
he  enters  the  next.  Just  what  a  man  sows  here,  he 
reaps  there.  As  well  might  the  sailor  try  to  swim  across 
the  ocean  on  a  straw,  as  a  man  who  has  lived  and  died 
unholy  to  cross  to  the  regions  of  happiness  and  sinless- 
ness  above.  And  now,  one  word  more  to  you  all  and  I 
will  say  good  morning.  Eternal  life  is  not  to  be  earned 
as  wages  for  work  done.  It  is  the  gift  of  God  through 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  has  earned  it  for  all  who 
will  come  to  him  for  it,  desiring  to  lay  down  their  sins 
at  his  feet.  No  efforts  of  our  own  can  make  us  fit  for 
heaven,  but  God  has  promised  the  help  of  his  Holy 
Spirit  to  all  who  ask  it.  If  I  am  saved,  it  will  be  by 
God's  mercy  and  goodness  alone.  If  YOU  are  saved, 
you  must  owe  it  to  the  same  mercy  and  goodness. 
That  mercy  and  goodness  flows  to  a  man  through  Christ, 
and  through  Christ  only.  Unless  you  receive  it  through 
him,  and  on  his  own  terms,  you  will  never  have  it  at  all. 
Come,  then,  to  Jesus.  He  is  willing  to  wash  you  in  his 
blood  and  clothe  you  with  his  righteousness.  He  is 
ready  to  make  your  heart  and  life  holy  by  his  Spirit 
He  is  able  to  make  you  fit  to  dwell  with  him  in  heaven. 
He  will  give  his~best  gifts  to  ail  who  humbly  and 
earnestly  ask.  'Ask  and  ye  shall  receive,  that  your 
joy  may  be  full.'  " 


WHAT    ARE    YOU    FIT    FOR  i 


Ye  dying  sons  of  men, 

Immerged  in  sin  and  woe, 
The  gospel's  voice  attend, 

While  Jesus  sends  to  you : 
Ye  perishing  and  guilty,  come ; 
In  Jesus'  arms  there  yet  is  room. 

No  longer  now  delay, 

Nor  vain  excuses  frame  : 
He  bids  you  come  to-day, 

Though  poor,  and  blind,  and  lame  : 
All  things  are  ready,  sinner,  come ; 
For  every  trembling  soul  there  's  room. 

Believe  the  heavenly  word 

His  messenger's  proclaim ; 
He  is  a  gracious  Lord, 

And  faithful  is  his  name : 
Backsliding  souls,  return  and  come ; 
Cast  off  despair,  there  yet  is  room. 

Compelled  by  bleeding  love, 
Ye  wandering  souls  draw  near, 

Christ  calls  you  from  above, 
His  charming  accents  hear  ! 

Let  whosoever  will,  now  come: 

In  mercy's  breast  there  still  is  room. 


PUBLISHED    BY    THE    SOUTH    CAROLINA    TRACT    SOCIETY 
Printed  by  Erans  k  Cogswell,  No.  3  Broad  street,  Charleston,  S.  C 


Hollinger  Corp. 
pH  8.5 


